The Porcelain Doll
by Mentality at its Worst
Summary: Miles Edgeworth was used to getting strange gifts in the mail, but this one by far was the strangest. 'Halloween' 'Oneshot'


Yeah, that's right.  I have a Halloween piece this year...just like last year (ugh, I'm bad at this).  Except this one is not chaptered and it's most definitely not pairing-centric or anything like that.

How many of you have heard the ghost story about the porcelain doll?  Some know it as a china doll, some heard the story differently.  I've never known any ghost stories, though someone told me this one today and I actually quite liked it, so I decided to give it a Phoenix Wright twist.  I don't know where the story originally came from, so I'm sorry if it's not public domain?  No copyright infringement intended!

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**The Porcelain Doll**

As a famous prosecutor and a finely-fashioned man, it was not uncommon for a one Miles Edgeworth to be 'treated' to a fair share of gifts, mostly sent anonymously. As a busy man, he rarely ever glanced at the cards that read silly things like, "I'm your #1 fan!" and "PLZ MARRY ME", though sometimes displayed the gifts if something about them caught his eye.

On one particular day, Miles was awoken by a large banging on his front door. After he grouchily clambered out of bed, throwing on his housecoat and slinking down the stairs, he went to open the door to yell at the fool who he thought would break a hole through the door. However, when he swung the door open there was no one there. Puzzled, he scanned the area around him, even took a step outside to get a better look at his front yard. There was not a soul there. As he went to step back inside, his foot lightly tapped a small package on his step. Raising an eyebrow, he scooped up the little box and closed the door behind him.

As Miles stepped back upstairs to his bedroom, he examined the brown paper package—there was no address on it but his own. As he sat himself back onto his bed, he began to pick at a small flap in the corner, beginning the peeling of the paper. He tore it off, opened the box, and sat silently as he stared in his lap at a porcelain doll. Much like the materials she was constructed with, her facial features were delicate, her lacy dress woven entirely with intricate details. He would not put it past him that she was a very beautiful doll…

But Mr. Edgeworth had no use for a doll. He rubbed his tired eyes, stealing a look at the clock. It was early morning, and about time he woke up anyway. Taking the doll carefully out of the box, he set it gently on his dresser as he went to get himself dressed for the day.

And Miles Edgeworth's days went on as usual, every morning he awoke to the doll sitting on his dresser, smiling as she watched him sleep at night. And as the days and weeks pushed on, he also accumulated more publicity, and with more publicity and fame came more odd trinkets that were delivered to him. Eventually, he found he had to either dispose of or move some things in order to gain back some personal space. He rolled up his sleeves and, venturing around the house with a giant box, he threw in teddy bears, watches, books, figurines and all sorts of other knick knacks and took them down the stairs and stuffed them into the cupboard.

While he was done, he unrolled his sleeves and headed back upstairs to change out. As he was approaching the dresser, he noticed the doll still sitting there and he stared at her some more. By now, he could barely remember when he had received her and never did he know where she had come from, but it was about time that he figured that she, too, should be stored away. He gently lifted her up and carried her down the stairs to the cupboard where he set her on top of the other things he had picked up. Before he closed and locked the cupboard door, he looked back down at her face to see that, despite sitting in the dark cupboard, her porcelain face still had an odd shine to it. He was almost tempted to bring her back out and set her somewhere in his house more deserving, but when he heard his phone ring, he simply slammed the door shut and thought nothing more of her.

Later that night after Miles had climbed into bed, through the quiet of his house and in his half-sleep, he heard what it sounded like the faint voice of a little lady talking to him.

"….I'm coming up the first step…"

He opened his eyes and sat upright. He raised his eyebrow as he looked around his room, looked at the window by his bed, and shook his head. He could have sworn he heard someone, but perhaps he was wrong? No, he was being stupid from all of the heavy casework he was busy dealing with lately, and so Miles Edgeworth lay back down and fell asleep.

However, the next night when he curled up inside his bed, and sleep was just about to overcome him, he heard it again.

"…I'm coming up the second step…"

This time Miles leapt out of his bed and took a search of his house. No one was in the closet, no one was at the window, no one at the doors, hiding in any of his rooms—no where. Finally pegging it on someone who was just causing trouble outside, he lay back down and fell asleep again.

However, it was inevitable that one night, Miles lay down to sleep without any trouble, and was soundly sleeping, ready for the big trial tomorrow when the icy voice, much more audible now, awoke him again.

"I'mmm heeerrrreeeee…"

It did not take anyone long to figure out that something _must_ have had happened to Mr. Edgeworth the next day, seeing as how he never showed up for the trial. As was expected, Detective Gumshoe was the first on the case, claiming he'd never sleep until Edgeworth was found. Tracing back to Miles' house, the bulky detective silently apologized as he tore down the door with his might, a flood of police rushing into the house. They stopped short after they burst in to find Miles Edgeworth, cold, limp, and body strewn across the stairs of his home, the little porcelain doll sitting happily by his side.

The media exploded. Tears were shed, accusations thrown about, and the police were baffled. Autopsies had shown nothing and forensics went insane not being able to trace a single thing to have caused his death. Eventually the case was put away as "unsolved" and the world began to know the Prosecutor, Miles Edgeworth's death as him simply tripping and falling over a little end table by the stairs…despite the end table actually being nearly five feet away from where he could have logically tripped and fell to his death.

Phoenix attended the funeral, as did what it seemed like hundreds of other people. Detective Gumshoe, the big man fighting back tears, put on a small show where he took the last thing that they saw near Edgeworth, the little porcelain doll, and laid it down carefully beside Edgeworth's body in the casket. Everyone cried, and everyone said things like, "It's terrible for this to have happened…" and, "this is why stairs should never exist!". Phoenix, stone-faced, listened carefully to everything that was happening around him, but at the same time something in his head itched. Something was not right.

The thoughts Phoenix had at the funeral disturbed him so much that the next day, he tracked down Detective Gumshoe and demanded to be shown the autopsy report, and any other notes and photographs that were taken at the scene. Phoenix knew just as well as anyone that something just did _not_ add up about this mysterious event. No marks were found on the body, nothing was found inside the body to have caused poisoning, there was _nothing_. But there was that doll. Perhaps it was a calling card?

Upon delivering this idea to the police, they laughed at him. Edgeworth had had that stupid thing for almost a year. After much fighting for it, Phoenix finally managed to gain permission to have the body dug out and re-examined, as well as take another good look at the doll.

Much to the party's horror, when uncovered, they discovered a horror-stricken look upon Miles Edgeworth's face, as well as the little porcelain doll, arms strangling his neck.

Phoenix went home that night, gears turning in his head; this case was getting weirder and weirder as he thought about it. Hell-bent on getting everything figured out and have Miles Edgeworth's name finally put to peaceful rest, he climbed into bed and planned his next course of action for the next day. He lay there, almost asleep and listening to the wind and the scraping of the tree branches against the windows, still thinking about his departed friend.

And then his eyes went wide as he heard the strangest, faint little lady's voice at the foot of his bed.

"I'mmm heeerrreeeee…"

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I don't know how anyone else has heard it, but that's more or less the story I received and I thought it was appropriate enough for a fic.  Not going to lie, I have four, almost five beautiful porcelain dolls sitting in my room, all watching me while I sit here typing.  Kinda creepy writing this all up, really.

Anyway.  Have a good Halloween everyone.  Thanks for reading, and an early thanks for reviewing.


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